the princess and the gargoyle
by aleushadrake
Summary: a girl falls in love with while standing on the side of a building debating suicide


The princess and the gargoyle

The room is littered with confessions of love crumpled and thrown to the side, spilling over the edge of the waste basket. Her body is tossed over in a heap on a sunken mattress,the sheets and blankets are rumpled and stained with streaks of mascara and lipstick. None of which are hers, she lays on her back with her head dangling off the side of the weak mattress on its broken frame. Her face is red from all the blood rushing to her head, tears pouring down her face as she stares blankly at the diamond ring glittering on the floor in from of her. The walls are covered in peeling wallpaper yellowed at the edges, small photos set in broken frames.

She flops over curling her small thin body into a fetal position, clinging to her knees shutting her eyes tightly trying to keep crying but nothing will fall. She rolls off the bed and walks over to the wall, she rips down a thick green blanket and lets the falling sun pierce through the window. She snarls at the scene in front of her, couples strolling through the park bustling home hand in hand, girls giggling at jokes that are surely not very amusing.

She screams at the air, and throws everything in sight, ripping draws from her dresser, throwing frames out the window. She turns on her heel and runs out the door almost knocking it off its hinges as she slams it shut, knocking down anyone in her path as she barrels down the narrow hallway up the stairs and up and up one flight after another until she kicks open the last door. The door slams against the wall leaving a crack in the wall, she screams obscenities at the door ,choking as the wind blasts across her face. She stomps angrily in her torn ballet shoes, majority of her legs exposed from her small denim shorts. She stands at the edge of the building, the ring clenched tightly in her grasp, she winds up to throw it into a passing pedestrian. She deflates and settles to sit down on the edge of the building, looking to the left she sees a stone figure sat on the corner ledge. Great veined winged folded shut over its spiny back, its long claws gripping the very edge of the building. Its face is strange with its beady looking eyes staring blankly outward as if it has nothing new to see, nothing it cares for. These rather demeaning eyes are set over a rather small beak shape, it has no hair just spikes of varying sizes poking out the back of its head.

"it must suck to be you huh?"

it doesn't respond, only continues looking at nothing.

"I wonder haw many people you've had to watch jump over something stupid."

she scoots closer to the stone figure and leans against it, the only one so far to listen without cutting her off mid-sentence.

"I wasn't going to jump you know, I wanted to throw this and watch it break into a billion pieces."

she held the great jeweled ring up into the falling sun and heaves a giant sigh.

"but if I throw it, I'll have done all that work for nothing. Also it might pop a hole in someone's head instead of breaking."

"this sucks. I really thought I finally had the one that wouldn't hurt me. Wouldn't lie to me.. but no I get back from the worlds crappiest diner and there sure enough with some other girl like wild animals on my bed. Cheap mascara stained my sheets..."

a deep exhale, blows over the top of her head. She looks outward not really thinking, the sky is blackening as dark clouds roll in.

" I trusted her, I really did."

she brings the ring to eye level and examines it.

"I been working that place to get this for her, I thought she was worth it. I damn near died getting this stupid ring. But maybe ill keep it. Maybe the next person will make it worth it."

she sticks the ring in the small pocket of her denim shorts, then reaches up behind her feeling for her stone guardian. Only to feel rough flesh, she turns her head slowly and sees black eyes staring down from over its muscular shoulder. Its body jerks slightly as it opens its wings wide keeping one open over her, then the pattering sound of rain fills her ears

"no ones ever even held a door for me, thank you..."

she stares awestruck at the beast it turns its head this way and that , working out the kinks in its neck, then it flexes its arm- clenching and unclenching its fists. Its long spiny tail sliding out from behind it swaying lazily this way and that. She looks away staring outward eyes wide, unsure of quite what to do

"could you hear me?"

she says it without thinking, and her mind it made perfect sense, after all just a moment ago this creature was stone.

"yes"

Its voice is smooth and velvet like, sort of like a song with no tune.

" her name was Tracy"

"is it no longer her name?"

she looks over to him almost wanting to smile.

"that's not what I called her when I saw them."

"hmmm"

the rain become heavier although beneath this creatures wide wing, she is perfectly dry and set so close to him, she is even rather warm.

"what is your name?"

it looks down to her, a puzzled expression on his face.

"I- I don't recall."

"where are you from?"

"nogrod I think, it is where I woke the first time at least. "

"nogrod? Wheres that?"

she turns, so her back is to the wall that she might face him easier. She grips his shoulder to settle herself more comfortably.

" its one of the dwarven capitols."

she stares at him with undivided attention, something he is highly unaccustomed to.

"is it underground? What do you mean 'where you woke'?"

he speaks not knowing why she is asking or why he ought to answer.

" I was carved from stone found at the place where the earth bleeds."

her eyes turn wide as if she has learned something absolutely stunning. The rain is heavier still, but there- right there is it dry warm and rather comforting.

She smiles and laughs, moving so much he fears she may fall, so he sets his tail behind her wrapping it about her waist. The night goes on in a similar manner, he learns her name is Lydia Blain she likes something called a motorcycle has no fondness for a holiday called valentines. Most of all that she is angry with the people who made him, for throwing him away for treating him as if he was nothing but a rock.

"thank you miss blain tonight I feel as if I have returned to my fortress"

"why is that"

"it is only there I had ever seen a princess"

with that the sun spills over his face his flesh becomes stone and she is alone again. But this time she smiles to herself slipping out from beside him and running back inside, ring clenched in her fist as she clatters clumsily down the hall. She bursts in her door, runs across the room bangs at the window, til the painted seal gives way and the smell of fresh rain spill into her small dank apartment. She rips the sheets off her bed and for some reason feel its needed that she throw out all the things 'tracy' ever slept in ever touched every picture of her double sided face smiling benignly. Afterward the room is hers, wholly and entirely hers it is not beautiful but everything is where she wanted it, rearranged how she wants it to be because tracy didn't like the idea before and tracy wanted lydias apartment arranged how she liked it. The digital click blinks in neon red numbers from atom the warped dresser that is almost 10 30 in the morning. She snatches her apron and purse from stool that had been hidden in the closet and now sits beside the door and dashes off to work at possibly the most miserable diner anyone has ever seen.

Cold air fills the city as night falls over the buildings like a veil, tonight no one is here. The stone guardian is not surprised, but looks down across the little people scrambling to get in one door or another. There at the base of the building he sees a bus roll to a squealing stop, some one pops out with wily black hair all tied in a fuzzy loose bun, ticket sticking out of her mouth. Apron still wrapped around her small waist hiding denim shorts, he watches her scramble to the sidewalk in her pink ballet slippers. She stops her arms filled with a purse a coat and a paper bag, she looks up directly at him- grinning still with a ticket between her teeth. Moments later she pops out the door at the top of the building waving a brown paper bag labeled 'golden village chinese bistro'. This night passes similar to the first but this time with more laughter and she dances across the rooftop in her pink slippers proving that their not just a look, this brings laughter from her odd looking friend. Much time passes and one night he wakes to find she is not there, only a small box wrapped in red paper. A small whit tag hangs off the side of it, he hold it up between thumb and for finger, squinting to read her loopy handwriting "to my friend lok"

she gave him a name. In his mind he wondered if she knew what this word meant (LOK= a treasure something of great value). He pulled the little white bow off the box, watching the paper unfurl like a blooming flower. With his thumb he popped the top off the box and peeked into it, something silver glittered. He pinched the shiny bit with the very tip of his long fingertips lifting it into the moonlight. A thick earring with a familiar jewel pressed into the center of its band, turning it slightly engraved letters glint in the silvery moonlight

'to my dear lok'

Many years later a man with a white coat slung over his arm steps out onto the rooftop and stands next to the gargoyle perched on the corner of the building. The sun falls behind the buildings, then beneath the water. heavy breathing can be heard as though something where struggling desperately not to cry.

"where is my lydia, where is my princess..."

He doesn't look at the man doesn't care to see him.

"she went to sleep, and she stopped breathing."

lok huffs angrily and shifts in place pacing with so many thoughts buzzing through his head. Stares angrily at the moon as if it is the reason he could not see her off. Could not say good bye. He leaps off the rooftop and glides smoothly away, knowing exactly where she is. There in the place with a blade of grass for every tear shed in this place,stone markers beneath trees all in a perfect line. All exactly the same.

Lydia blaine

her headstone is in the center of the cemetery where there are no trees no angelic stone faces marking any grave with its emotionless expression. Marble colored clouds roll in thundering like war drums,rain pours so heavily it leaves dents in perfectly manicured grass. Muddy water lucking up stones covering their names. One is clean, with words gouged deep in to it beneath the name.

"my princess"

he sets himself into a familiar position, this time arcing his wide wings out in front of him guarding her from the rain the sun the snow. he looks down at her name and feels his heart break, his flesh stiffens growing cold and hard.

People tell stories about the princess and the gargoyle, they even come to see if he will come to life, but no matter how many nights come and go he stays as stone guarding her forever.


End file.
